


Antipodean

by jenlynn820



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:09:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1266022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenlynn820/pseuds/jenlynn820
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Zach texting across the miles that separate them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Antipodean

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Zach instagramming this: 
> 
> https://24.media.tumblr.com/f1beb53c4365db3bb085f945e92c5359/tumblr_n1vrq5hN3r1qb3lvjo1_500.jpg
> 
> And the fact that Chris was in New Zealand filming Z for Zachariah. For those who don't know the Antipodes refers to New Zealand and Australia
> 
> Not beta-ed.

 

 

> **antipodean** (not comparable)  
>   1. diametrically opposed  
>   2. relating to the antipodes, or situated at opposite sides of the Earth  
>   3. of, or pertaining to, Australia or New Zealand 

 

It started like this:

_Can’t stop thinking about you_

Chris looked at his phone. Read the text again. And again. Double checked the name attached to the message. Zach Quinto. There was a sudden tightness in his chest. His gut twisted quite unexpectedly. Chris’ fingers—fuck—his hands shook as he tried to muster the dexterity needed to reply. He tried for nonchalant and failed. Failed pretty fucking miserably. Epically, even, considering the words that spilled out of his brain into electronic dots that he sent speeding across the planet with a quick swipe of his fingers.

_I’ve never stopped. Not for one goddamned second._

It got quiet. Eerily quiet, the kind that in a movie precedes doom for the hero. Time seemed—no not seemed—time skidded to an almost halt and then plodded forward in slow motion. Like the aforementioned movie in which our doomed hero is about to meet his untimely end. Each millisecond was heavy, weighed down by possibility or the lack of same. There was time for everything. For regret, for the aching need that always lived inside of Chris, just out of sight, to rear into view.

Chris conducted a full and extensive inventory of everything he’d ever felt or known about Zach Quinto. Every emotion, every sensory experience. And especially every kiss. Every brush of his skin and Zach’s. Every shared breath catalogued. Every heart beat filed away for future perusal.

His iphone came to life, played a sonorous little melody. Chris blinked at the screen.

_You’re an idiot._

All at once the heaviness broke. Like storm clouds bursting from the weight of water built inside them. Or something. Science was never Chris’ thing. The good news is Chris could breathe again. His heart raced, but in a good way. An amazing way. The iphone sang its happy tune again:

_Come to Berlin._

Chris felt a sting of disappointment. He wanted to hop the next flight.   With all his heart he wanted that. With steadier fingers he typed:

_Exploring the Antipodes for another little while._

Seconds passed. No texts came through. Chris’ heart sank, just a little. He hated to disappoint Zach. And then, instead of chiming the ringtone played. Chris saw Zach’s picture pop up and instantly swiped “answer”.

“What the fucking hell is the Antipodes? Is it some sexual thing I don’t want to know about? Wait, I don’t want to know about it, don’t tell me,” Zach began, apropos of nothing.

Chris laughed. Hard. “It’s not— It’s New Zealand and Australia. What did they teach you in Catholic School?”

“Not that and nothing else I care to remember,” Zach replied.

There was silence then. Just a few beats. “I miss you,” Chris said.

“Obviously,” Zach said.

It was glib. It was always so fucking glib between them. Chris loved it. And he hated it with every fiber of his being. “Zach.”

“I already told you I can’t stop thinking about you,” Zach said, a note of defensiveness evident in his tone.

“Yes, yes you did.”

Zach sighed now. A heavy, ponderous noise. Intentional. “You make it so fucking hard, Pine.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Chris said.

Zach snorted. “I miss you, too. Really. A lot.”

Chris hugged himself, cradled the phone between his shoulder and his ear. “How long are you in Berlin?”

“A while.”

“In three weeks?” Chris asked.

“Shit—Yeah. Three weeks. Okay.”

Chris smiled now. That little outburst gave him what he really wanted. Now he didn’t just know Zach missed him as much he missed Zach. Now he _believed_ it. “Okay. See you then. I gotta go,” Chris said.

“Three weeks,” Zach repeated.

“Three weeks. Bye, Zach.”

“Bye.”

The call ended. Chris smiled. A shiver rattled his bones. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, brushed at what he wished were phantom tears that slipped past his lashes in a brazen, unbidden fashion. Chris sniffled, put his phone down and got up, ready to start the day. And then:

_I’ll count the days. The minutes until you are a memory no longer but mine again. Until then I keep reminding myself that you are not only a person, my friend, but a place I will always return to._

Chris reached out, touched the words on the screen. He typed a message in reply:

_Your a poet_

Three seconds later Zach answered:

_*you’re_

Chris doubled over in laughter.

_Fuck you._

Another reply came through:

_In three weeks. Let’s try that Antipodes thing._

Chris snorted and wrote:

_I <3 U_

Another reply:

_I keep reminding myself. <3 U, too._

A few seconds passed. Then a few more. No more texts from Zach came through. No more were needed. Three weeks seemed like an impossible amount of time to wait until he could see Zach but Chris knew he’d make it. He’d cross time and space and anything else and then he’d be Zach’s. Again. And again.

 

fin.


End file.
